There is so much power in forgiveness. Suddenly, you’ll find it feels good to give.
Waving the wrong away, not looking to bring shame. I forgive, the way I have been forgiven. Nothing is remembered when I look your way, vanishing memories of yesterday.
Forgiveness is the greatest gift, it mends minds and weaves happiness; Sweetly melts once sour hearts.
I can’t help but write, the words need to be free from this cage my skull they’ve been knock knock knocking. Head is rocking, or has my own foundation began to shake?There’s no doubting it’s just me right now feeling this way, like needing to spit e v e r y l e t t e r straight to your face. Get it OUT! I’m calm at the moment, purposely laying every word out in the open. One, two.
CLANG CLANG, I must say that I never saw this coming, the overflow from my cranial station, who likes making sense anyway, I have no set rules. .. … . You’d think there’d be a system to the mayhem, or at least a clock somewhere, yet my thoughts take control and my brain screams to let go of the tension- #^%&! LET GO OF THE WOOOOOORDS! They’re like tiny monsters wanting to escape and go party with each other, I’m taking the backseat on this one guys.
I can’t help but to type instead of sleep, my brain’s definitely been working hard to keep the pace up. I’m about to crash any moment, but there’s much in mind, not enough time for things unimportant. Release of this brain dust so I can sleep so tomorrow I’ll function.
Twisty words make it fun to open up a gifted poem, but today doesn’t have reason to the silliness. No, this is just a space to let creativity be just that.
PS New All About, with meh face
If I am who I wanna be then what’s the mystery
when I explain to thee, that I have what I want.
Why’s it conditional, like “Do anything”, but not this thing though.
Tough love, hard truth, but who’s truth though?
Questions I’m having because I know who I am.
Since I’ve decided, others won’t like what I am, but at least I know it finally myself
Since I am who I want to be, I’ll continue to grow and feel peace through it all
keeping it simple while dancing and saying “yo”
That’s just me though, no real consistency but being thrown in the oven soon
to help me rise into the tasty artist I aspire to be,
and feel inspired by what touches me, honestly, that’s how I want to live
There’s no hope for me, working away from home, ready to run away. I need to be
painting and creating, designing through words or on paper. Someone please help me get
CANVAS. I have a map in my head
I have no idea where anything is at, yet no desire to figure that out.
When I start to think about home I imagine a clean and fresh scent as I walk through the front door. The first thing I want to do is remove my shoes to feel the solid floor. I breathe in a silence that sings serenity, and my muscles relax as I feel soothed already.
When I sit down, cluttering the table now with all that I brought through the door, I drift away into a peaceful rest that turns into sleep for an hour or more. Awake, I find my family beside me, mess cleaned caused by my arrival, with a smell in the air of fresh food. In the kitchen I look out to the garden, searching for the sight of my only son. I smile when I find him laughing with friends in the yard I’ve worked hard to give him- room for creativity, freedom to be loud and move.
When the dark of the evening settles, I feel a hug come from behind my waist and my husband starts to rub up and down my arms. I was tired from the day, but now there are no worries, not to be thought of anymore. The bedroom is inviting, the bubble bath hot with flames lining the tub, with flowers, too. When I slide underneath my covers I feel safe knowing the people I love are under my roof. The comforter heavy on my body feeling therapeutic in the cool under the whispering fan. I sleep and I dream of the days I’m home.
When you are on the way I can just feel you getting closer to me. I’ll always want to hold your hand, and look at your smiling eyes.
And I promise to love you when all the lights are gone or too close. I am your hiding spot and you are my rock to cry under. Never want to fear you or give you a reason to fear me, we could be good enemies but I’d rather not.
When you are happy, I want to be the one you can’t wait to tell, be the one you can’t wait to see. When you are down I want to be the one to help you feel hope, and remind you of our promises. When you arrive, I stand up and I run.
Typing just to see words put down. I’m alive and thinking, yet haven’t created the perfect sentence for reading. Tongue twisting wishing I could communicate more freely; never being afraid of being misunderstood.